Five

Holy cow! Five! This morning I woke up and you were all curled up in my bed because you snuck in last night. I looked at the clock and realised that five years ago you had just told me that it was time to get to the hospital, which, as per the doctor's instructions from the last quick birth, we did as quickly as we could. You arrived about two hours later, wrinkled and mad and screaming at the indignity of it all. Sometimes you still scream like that.
You are the most beautiful girl on the planet, perhaps the universe. You continue to astound me with your joy, your passion, your expression, and your presence. You hug with abandon, sharing your love of the world and your exuberance with everyone around you. You are a rascal, you tease your brother, your daddy, and me, and laugh with your whole body when you think something's funny. Despite your teasing, you are a good sister, a bit bossy, but full of cuddles and good intentions and a million games that you invent for the two of you to play. Ben is your favorite person in the whole world and that never fails to warm me.
You have opinions on your clothes, you already have better taste than me, you can't wait to learn to read and you sleep with at least six books in your bed every night. You are strong and mighty and quick. You will take on the world and win it with your will. You shine in this world of so many ordinary things.
And when you tell me that you are going to grow up to be like me someday, I am the proudest person in the universe.
I love you so my little Noo,
Momma

words you want to hear before you close your eyes at night

Goodnight my beautiful....


I will be back to finish my vacation write up soon. Right now I'm up to my neck in work explosions...

she's not from here - day 4

Yesterday was a slower day. I spent the morning drinking coffee on the dock while the mist rolled across the smooth, still water. The hammock chair in the living room has become my favorite place for reading and writing. I have book stations around the house, a different book at every one so that no matter where I sit I can pick one up.

I decided on a shorter run yesterday, about 8k. I drove to a road that snakes behind the pond (I'm through running on the two-lane, it's treacherous!), parked, and ran all the way behind and back. almost all of it was dirt road which was a nice change from pavement.



After, I drove into town and picked up a few things (can you believe I left Montreal without lip balm?) and came home where I read and did some writing and ate, listened to music, went out to the dock with a cup of tea. There was an upsetting episode during the evening, but I'm determined not to dwell.
Reading in the hammock chair listening to Haydn, wishing I could stay here forever, or at least one more week.



Today I am planning a run up in the White Mountains, which are just across the road. I drove up part of it yesterday, dirt road, winding up, pretty challenging for me. Then there's a turnoff to Crocker Pond which goes up another 3k to a pond obviously. During the summer there must be a lot of people around, but now it's deserted aside from the hunters. You can hunt in national parks in Maine, did you know that? So that's the plan. It looks beautiful. Trying to stifle the bear fear.....I need cymbals.

she's not from here - day 3

Decided on a hike up Table Rock in Grafton Notch.
Drove there, parked, looked at the sign pointing out the trails, and crossed the road. Heading off I passed a guy coming out. That was the last person I saw on my hike. There were signs for a number of trails, I took the Table Rock trail and followed it up. Once again, it seemed harmless.



It got steep rather quickly and turned into an antediluvian riverbed, boulders instead of a path, winding up 900 feet. I followed the markers of red spray paint, a bit incredulous, at times completely winded. A couple of times I thought the top was near, I was so wrong, the trail deked me out, ran me through some woods, then up up up again. At one point I got to this huge boulder under a cliff and stood there flummoxed until I realised there was a spray painted arrow on one side indicating a narrow space to squeeze yourself between the rock and a cave under the cliff. I suppose if you had managed to make it up that far, they assumed you were thin enough to fit. Finally clambered up a muddy last hill and reached the Table, a flat bit of rock with an enormous view of the surrounding mountains. The sun came out, but it was quite cool and windy. Still, nothing was going to deter me from sitting and enjoying the view for a while and drinking some water and eating a granola bar while I was doing it.



I wasn't looking forward to the descent very much, but realised as I was climbing down that the markers were blue now, then realised that the trail was quite a bit easier. The significance of the red and blue suddenly sank in.
Duh.
I was so happy about the fact I didn't have to climb down through boulders that I started singing selections from Carmen at the top of my lungs. I was hoping I really was alone because a) I'm not an opera singer and b) I don't know the words. Still, happy as can be tripping down the trail, torturing the wildlife, passing streams, slipping occasionally on moss and muddy areas from all the rain we've had lately. The markers turned white, but I was still heading down, and eventually got to the point where the trails separated and I was indeed coming down the opposite fork from where I started. Got to the car, now kind of frozen and enjoyed the heater immensely.
Stopped on my way out of the park at a place called Screw Auger Falls, where the water has eaten round pools out of the rock, it's marvelous.

On the way home also stopped at a covered bridge and then at the local grocery store. No tahini (what was I thinking?), but found hummus, which was just as good when combined with lemon juice for the sauce for the chickpea/squash thingie.

Skyped my kids, miss 'em.....then read, wrote, drank, and slept.

she's not from here - day 2

Slept in until 8! Woke to the sun on the leaves, making them glow bright red and yellow and orange against the deep blue sky.
And I believe to the sound of a passing logging truck.
Have been reading and writing and lounging all morning, but must get out at some point and wander about. Trying to determine if my knees will accept a hike up Grafton Notch, or whether they'd prefer a 10k run. I'm fairly certain they'd prefer to stay in bed.
So yesterday, I had my route, which started with a dreary run along the two-lane which the locals treat like the autobahn. No real shoulder to speak of, so pretty terrible. Finally get to the turn off, Vernon Street, which goes back, way back behind the pond and loops around to town. Paved, but very quiet. Too quiet in fact. Realised that there really wasn't much out there in terms of anything. My thoughts turned to city-girl fears - bears, serial killers, you know. On the other hand, I'm enjoying the peace and the woods all around and being the only thing on the road. To combat my fear of startling a bear (my brain is a truly stupid place), I started to sing whatever my ipod was playing, of course terribly because I'm running, I'm wearing headphones, and who can sing the Beegees and Abba? Was fully expecting to come upon a bunch of locals BBQing in their backyard and staring at me. Luckily, that didn't happen.
Passed the occasional house and bit of civilization. After about 12.5k I came to the next turnoff that I'd seen on the map. Paradise Road cuts directly into town instead of going further around and then back. This seemed more efficient to me as I'd sat at the house planning. It looked harmless, as all truly bad things do. There were quite a few houses along the route, although the road was narrow. I took it. It had started to rain, a light drizzle, it was a bit cool, windy.
I now have a new rule about checking elevations when I plan a running route.
Paradise Road got its name because its purpose seems to be to bring you to the kingdom of heaven. The grade started slowly for the first .5k, then turned into the equivalent of running up Peel Street ten times, in a now harder and cooler rain. At a few points I actually felt like I was moving backwards. I was rewarded at the top with a vantage of the mountains and surrounding colourful countryside and a cemetery with one headstone. There are a couple of houses up there and I was mighty jealous. The way down was much less steep and I made it into town in time for the sun to come out. I wandered a bit and then ran, stumbled, occasionally walked, the last 7k back to the house, iced my knees, went and found some food, had a hot bath, and read until I couldn't stay awake.
Out and about again!

she's not from here - day 1

Woke up this morning to see a pink sunrise and water rippling and everything was so quiet and lovely. Threw some clothes on, made some coffee and went out to the dock outside the back door to enjoy it.
Sipping hot coffee, world so peaceful, beautiful Fall colours, birds, chill in the air, sound of the water lapping against the dock. Bliss. Noticed one of the metal chairs had fallen into the water. Bent to retrieve it.
Fell in, obviously.....
If I ever warm up again, have a run mapped for today - about 23k as far as I can tell. I will be stopping halfway for a walk around the town.

A little time off....

I'm here!
When I looked up the directions on Google maps and printed them out, I must have inadvertently chosen the "scenic but deadly" route option. I must have also mentioned "meandery" because the first thing it did was take me off the 10E, send me through Chambly, then back onto the 10E. Just a reminder that you must always read all of the directions FIRST. Whoops. Lesson learned. Perhaps Chambly is giving Google a cut, lots of new developments in that area.
So back on the 10, off at Coaticook and through to a small customs on two-lane highways, then across into Vermont. This is where any semblance between reality and the directions ended. How this could have been the shortest option boggles my mind, the ascents up several notches and hairpin turns certainly did not encourage a lot of speed. It was pretty, until nightfall and the rain started, combined with the warnings of MOOSE! posted every half mile. I was becoming immune to the exclamation points and pictures of large antlers, until I saw a moose (MOOSE!) just off the road, yet barely visible until you were right up to it. My speed dropped even more dramatically after that. Also saw two foxes and a bunch of deer.
One numbered highway turned into another, suddenly I was in NH - finally! Closer! Drove past this beautifully lit resort of some sort next to a lake. It was a surprising site. I kept going up notches, around curves, dark roads made darker by the rain. Thankfully, US drivers dim their lights when you pass, shame they all drive trucks and SUVs and blind me anyway. Finally saw a sign: [My location] (ME) 28. Whoop!
After 30 minutes of driving I entered Maine and saw another sign: [My location] 28. Ummmmm...... is there a difference between NH miles and Maine miles?
Keep driving, and....... [My location]!
Stopped at an ancient Shop and Save and picked up some basics. A million cookie varieties, one choice for plain yogurt.
Got to the cash and asked how to get to the pond and got the full Maine accent from the bag boy and was enchanted and amused. The cashier drew me a map to get out of the village, which was sweet of her. Found the place without too much backtracking. It's right off the road, but right on the pond. It is the headquarters for the Maine kitsch and knick-knack society, but completely expected and very cozy and warm, and wireless internet. I'm sitting in this rope swingy chair, like a hammock for one.
Can't wait to see how everything looks in the morning. I went out on the dock and looked up and the half-ish moon was out and the stars bright and twinkly.
I'm here.

When to hold, when to let go

I woke up in the middle of the night in a sweat. I had a nightmare, my heart was pounding, brain racing, that sick feeling of fear that stays with you as you lie there in the dark. My phone went off, a text: "heart attack".
I thought it was a joke.

I found out it was no joke. Someone who means an awful lot to me had just finished being rushed to emergency, then to a second emergency to relieve a major blockage that was stopping his heart, a heart that feels an awful lot for me, one that I was not ready to have stopped. I scrambled to the hospital and found my way to the ICU. On the way I remembered how we had chatted the evening before and how he'd been fine, telling me that he missed me, complaining about some meeting, making plans for the weekend and some vacation time we were planning together.

There were wires everywhere, and a machine beeping and scrolling four rows of small, jagged mountains across a screen, close to what my daughter would draw for a landscape before adding a sun and some birds in the sky. Disks of paper were still attached to him, reminders of the machines earlier in the evening that were monitoring him, showing erratic lines and flat spaces, reflecting the chaos and terrifying pain going on in his chest.

I was amazed at how good he looked despite what had just happened.
He was treated in record time and exactly the way he was supposed to be. Every medical person who walked through that sliding glass door into his room told him how lucky he was. They also told him that he has to quit smoking.
He is 45, you would think that this is a no-brainer.
It is the one sticking point between us, the thing that I cannot tolerate, will not accept. I cannot turn a blind eye to it and shrug it off. Perhaps it's because I've been down that road, not as far, and understand the way back. I cannot understand holding on to something that will kill you. But I cannot make him let go.
I spent the day with him, watching him sleeping, watching the monitor lines, holding his hand, stroking his head and trying to hide how scared I'd been. Here he was, fixed, blood flowing, pumping like it should, a new day. The opportunity to start all over again.
And tonight he snuck out of the hospital and had a smoke.

I don't understand that saying, "If you love something, let it go, comes back....it's yours, blah blah". When you love something, you hold on to it with everything you've got, you don't let it go because the thought of being without it isn't fathomable. The time you let go is when you don't care or have no choice.
We make our own choices, but how do you respect choices and let go when all you want to do is hold on?

Incidentally, my nightmare was not a premonition, it was just about zombies.....

Benny's Run

Hi Everybody!

This is the first year of the (I hope) annual Benny Run.
As you all know, I started running a few years ago. This year, I decided that I was ready to attempt a half marathon, and I have been training most of the year. It will take place November 6 at Oka.

I am raising money for the Autism Clinic at the Montreal Children's Hospital. I am hoping that you will sponsor me and help support the people and services that have helped my son Ben and so many other children reach their potential.

Ben is now in Grade 2 at a mainstream school. He's reading and writing, doing math, telling jokes, building amazing lego contraptions, and socializing with his peers. We are thankful for every bit of help we have received to get Ben where he is today, and so proud of Ben, he's a superstar and one of my heroes.

There are two ways to donate:

1. Go directly to the MCH Donations page at http://www.fondationpourenfants.com/en/donate-info.aspx
Select Community Events or Group from the list. Type “Bennett Wark Tribute Fund” in the Please Specify box under GENERAL INFORMATION. This directs your donation to the Autism Clinic. Then fill out the rest of the form. Under Additional Comments, write "Benny Run". They will send you a tax-deductable receipt in the mail.

2. Give the donation to me and I will send it to the Children's for you.

Thank you all for your support!

Dina

________________________________________________________________________________

The profits from the race entries will go towards the West Island Association for the Intellectually Handicapped (WIAIH), which is a great organization. If you would prefer to donate to them instead, the link is provided below:
https://www.runningroom.com/dashboard/donations/index.php?raceId=5654&eventId=18497&memberId=VjYGNVczAWFdMFZiVGo%3D&item=8&guest=1

beautiful

red riding hood - musical

red riding hood - musical
Originally uploaded by dina the m and o

ninjas!

Mahler's 2nd, Resurrection - Orchestre Montreal, Yannick Nezet-Seguin

It was beautiful. My crush conducted marvelously ;-)
I set off through town, 30 minutes before the show (friend got stuck in traffic), only to find myself stuck in even more traffic. I finally managed to find a spot on Rene Levesque and ran up the street in the rain, in heels, umbrella being blown inside out, dodging puddles and feeling the damp chill on my legs. Worked through the maze of construction to get to the ticket counter and waited my turn. Mezzanine, G, but centre.
Ran upstairs, sat, waited. Speech about 30th anniversary of OM, short video, speech from YNS, what a sweetie. Then, MUSIC!
You know that you can expect good noise when there are six percussionists, two sets of kettle drums, that HUGE drum, and three other sets of clangy things, eight bass (basses?), two harps, obviously the rest of the instruments, and a choir behind it all.
Close my eyes, it starts, beautiful noise, then a part with strings where I started crying because it was so lovely. Dry my tears, flowing along with the big music, the quiet areas, the gentle, soft plucking, tinging, light, then heavy and dramatic.
The horns kept leaving then coming back, at some point I realised that they were playing in the wings. Three quarters through, three of the percussionists left, and the guy leading the way was trying to push open the wrong door without success before being redirected by the guy behind him.
The man sitting next to me had his elbow well into my side and possessed a muscle tic and kept jabbing me in the ribs. This grew worse once he fell asleep.
The mezzo soprano was rich and I could understand what she was singing, the soprano, as with most sopranos, I can rarely make out every word, but I actually made out even fewer, sounded nice though. She was on the "stick side" of Yannick and I swear he was close to poking her eye out a few times. Must have been farther away though because she didn't flinch.

The percussion was incredible, in a few places it came out like shimmering waves over the rest of the music and I was delighted at the joy I felt. The end was big and dramatic and clashy banging strings sawing, my crush in a frenzy of arms.

Back out into the cold and rain and home. Overjoyed that I went.

Happy

Some days all you want is for someone to show up at your door with flowers, and it happens....

I have had a couple of incredibly sad days. Not sure if it's the weather, hormones, or the fact that I haven't had a hug from my kids in over a week, but I've got that curl-up-into-a-ball-and-cry feeling and it needs to go away....

Hmmmmmmm, I think I drank too much......

Truant

I know, long time, no blog. Here are a few things I've been up to and I hope to elaborate soon:
Music - Mahler, Les Miz, Jazz Fest, Chopin, Beethoven, and Schumann
Other - comedy fest and fireworks, my birthday, Ben's birthday, a few other good BBQs, some vacation time, some hikes
Food - Some good brunches with my ladies, cake, a kiss-ass picnic, lunches, too much cheese, all clothes officially tight.....
Fitness - Running, cross training and my experience so far with the dreaded P90X series...

Coming up - Training for first running event, more running, trying to fit back into my Fall skirts (stupid cheese!), more concerts, more dinners, back to school, kid time, a wedding (not mine), more hiking, and much, much more!

Writer

I seem to have two states of being: the one where I'm writing on paper/computer, and the one where I'm writing in my head. Lately I sit and jot down a few ideas and stare at the screen and lose all interest in continuing my thoughts. But they are there and numerous - a veritable jungle of thoughts, overgrown, one tangling into another forming this mass of confused, yet interconnected ideas and feelings. Thoughts about me, love, my family, my relationships, my career, music, science, food, silence, movement. Where am I going? Who am I doing it with? Am I happy? All of this stuff whirling around in my head, coming out in sentence after sentence I formulate in my mind and that disappear by the time I sit down to put them on paper. When I'm driving, running, picking up milk at the supermarket, I am writing, writing, writing, only the words never become concrete.
Are those moments meant to be captured? Are they merely a warm up for my brain as it gets ready to send my fingers scribbling with a pen over paper or tapping on a keyboard? Is scripting imaginary conversations between characters and lovers or creating paragraphs on ideas as I read the newspaper or listen to the radio just a form of therapy for me or is it exercise that I do because writing is all that I really ever do and have done even when I cannot put one letter on a page?

Seven

It's your birthday again Ben and this year you are seven and you are still the most amazing little boy in the world. You continue to surprise me with your imagination - you make up games, build all manner of lego spaceships, and tell me stories about super heroes and monsters and bad guys who go to jail. You hum the Indiana Jones theme constantly. You walk up to strangers with your hand out ready to shake and say, "Hi, my name is Benny".
You are growing up, and we want you to grow up, and we are doing our best not to baby you, but it's hard. Grade 1 was hard too, there was so much to learn, and you struggled to adapt to the changes, and the homework, and having to sit and concentrate for so long. You got frustrated, sometimes I got frustrated, but you made it through and I am so proud of you. You continue to make friends where ever you go and charm people with your smile and your open nature. You are always in motion, running, swimming, biking, dancing, singing, and jumping up and down.
The way that you play with your sister puts a smile on my face. You are everything a big brother should be, you look out for her, make her laugh, give her hugs and kisses, play along with all her suggestions and hardly ever complain when she takes your stuff or wrecks your latest lego. When something breaks, you say, "that's ok, we can fix it", something that we should all try to remember everyday.
It is that gracious heart that makes you special, makes you stand out, and I am so glad that you are mine, that I made such a lovely little boy. A little boy who is not too old yet to crawl into bed in the morning for a cuddle, or too old to give me big hugs and kisses at night.
You are my favorite boy in the entire universe, I love you to the moon (the sun, the next galaxy) and back.
All my love,
Momma

Death by princess

I'm in the kitchen, my daughter comes in.

Naomi: "Mom! An ant!" (We still have a bad ant problem in my house).
Me: "Oh yeah."
N: Maybe I'll pet it."
M: Um, ok.
N: "Or maybe I'll kill it."
Naomi leaves the kitchen and returns with a small princess figurine. She crouches down on the floor and proceeds to pound the ant to shreds with the princess.
N: "I killed it! It's dead! Benny, come look at the ant, I killed it!"

Never a prouder moment.......

Amsterdam to Montreal

Lazy Sunday morning and I should be doing a million other things, my house is tonrnadoed, my stuff needs organizing, breakfast. But the kids are watching a movie and I should catch everyone up. I've been doing a lot of writing, but not of the blog variety, there's a lot of stuff flying around my brain right now.



I arrived in Amsterdam and got to Jane's place early afternoon. Within a few hours, I'd already managed to be drunk, have a nice meal at a cafe, and learn how to ride on the back of a bike. It helps to have an experienced person telling you what to do. They start peddling, then you hop on to the back rack sideways and scootch around until you get your balance, and cross your ankles! That's important. Then, you hop off at intersections and hills and repeat to get back on. I didn't knock Jane off, and she told me when to hop off so I looked reasonably coordinated. I rented a bike, it was not Walter, but it was an ok bike and it served me well for a couple of days. Amsterdam is this amazing unwinding place for me. I know that it's a party town, but if you stay out of the grotty downtown area, it can be very serene and chill.



The first evening I passed out early, and the Saturday was spent running some errands, groceries, a nice lunch in a hip area of town, and a trip to the Noodermarkt where I picked up cheese and perused the antiques and flea market treasures.


I also had a scrumptious nap on her sofa. Jane made a nice dinner and we got through a couple bottles of wine. Sunday she made pancakes and I went to return my bike. I didn't realise that it was raining quite so hard and I should have borrowed an umbrella for the walk back through Vodelpark. I got back to Jane's drenched to the bone and without much extra time to dry off. I changed my jeans, put my wet clothes in a plastic bag and Jane walked me to the bus stop with a brellie. It's always nice to drop in on her for a couple of days and catch up. I got to the airport, picked checked in, picked up stroopwaffels and a few requests from duty-free, and had a decent flight home. When I arrived it was hot and sunny and I came home, picked up my car, grabbed stuff for the kids and went over to see them. Naomi ran halfway down the stairs and jumped into my arms. I'm not sure that I want to be gone for that long again without the kids, at least not when it's not completely necessary.



I love travelling, I love experiencing new things and meeting people and eating new food and just 'being' elsewhere. I get excited and engaged and my brain lights up when I walk around a new city and I see how much is different and how much is the same. It's a connection that's so important to me. So I'm caught between my desire to be elsewhere and my need to be with my kids. It was very obvious that the kids were effected by my long absence this time around. I was too. Naomi seemed so much bigger when I saw her. The best part of this week has been waking up and cuddling with the kids first thing in the morning. Ben has told me many times how happy he is that I am back from Sweden, which melts my heart every time I hear it.
The jetlag is finally fading. It was pretty bad, for the first couple of days I had dizzy spells and my brain was fuzzy. It's taking a while to get back into the right mindset, and frankly I'm feeling a bit ambivalent. I've been reminded again of what I want, what I really want to make me happy. Now that I'm home I feel restless and too overwhelmed and tired to get anything done.
I need to have a good long look and let go of some things that are weighing me down and start making other things more of a priority. I'm not getting to a point where I feel empty all the time ever again.